


make a scene

by ohvictor



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Cat Cafés, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-01-24 00:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21328900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohvictor/pseuds/ohvictor
Summary: A collection of <1k-word drabbles. See beginning note for more info, and see each chapter's beginning note for individual warnings (including spoiler warnings).1) taichi, act 32) bantai (spoiler-free)3) masumi, boy alice in wonderland4) chikaita, kitten cafe5) spring troupe (spoiler-free)6) itaru & chikage light angst, see chapter warnings7) itaru & chikage, SSR Mining8) banri & itaru, borrowed appellation>NEW< 9) itaru & omi, midnight snack
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru & Spring Troupe, Chigasaki Itaru/Utsuki Chikage, Nanao Taichi/Settsu Banri
Comments: 16
Kudos: 181





	1. taichi, act 3

**Author's Note:**

> hello welcome to my a3 drabble collection o(--( most of these were written for friends!! and as such, they are somewhat inconsistently formatted due to informal presentation. i've fixed spacing issues, <strike>but not caps</strike> (edit 7/20) and now caps as well! these drabbles are also not being posted in the order i wrote them, which frustrates me personally, but i think this is the best way to present them. 
> 
> if you are interested in nsfw drabbles, i've started a separate collection [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21437593/chapters/51082135).
> 
> the title is... sort of an homage to my [enstars drabble collection](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13935456/chapters/32077632), except a3 is theatre, so, scene!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this drabble is set during act 3, but contains implied spoilers thru roughly act 3 ch 33. it's angsty! enjoy (lol)

It’s autumn troupe’s first rehearsal with costumes. Not quite a dress rehearsal, since the set reportedly isn’t finished, but Yuki shows up with his costume rack and helps them all get dressed, thankfully without stabbing anyone with loose pins.

(Taichi supposes he should be grateful to get a chance to wear these costumes once, before he has to ruin them. He holds the completed Benjamin costume in his hands and wishes he could disappear.)

He watches his troupemates fit into their costumes like they were born to star in _Picaresque_. Omi’s hands slot easily into his jacket pockets, Sakyo adjusts his tie with a vengeance that only makes him look _hotter_; Juza’s all-black ensemble outlines the shape of his body perfectly, and Banri... Actually, the coat — his loose, off-the-shoulders, more-cape-than-coat, coat — does nothing for his figure, but the way it frames his shoulders and weights every step he takes with purpose is...delightful.

Taichi’s own costume is dull in comparison. As soon as this thought crosses his mind, he feels guilty for thinking ill of Benjamin; the guy is trying his best. He didn’t ask to be played by a traitor, a no-good actor like Taichi.

The run starts smoothly, despite the whirlwind of Taichi’s thoughts. Watching from the sidelines, he’s enraptured by his troupemates’ performance. It takes his mind off his ruminations; it’s like he’s seeing this play he loves with new eyes. When it’s his turn to step onstage, all the guilt and self-hatred leaves his mind, leaving only his character, his lines. Benjamin, hopeful in a hospital bed.

(They don’t have a bed for rehearsals yet. Taichi sits on the floor, legs curled under himself, and doesn’t think about the inevitable future rehearsals, of standing on that vast MANKAI theater stage, in this incredible place where he shouldn’t be.)

At the end of the first scene in the hospital, Banri takes off his big coat, revealing his suit (not as form-fitting as Juza’s... sad!). With a grim smile, he slings the coat around Taichi’s shoulders.

“_Don’t catch a cold_,” he ad libs, giving Taichi’s shoulder a firm pat. “_Or your brother’ll have my hide, heh_.”

Taichi’s not... a good actor, really, not good enough for GOD-za, nor for MANKAI, and he fumbles his ad lib reply, stammering out the words. “_Th... Thank ya_,” he manages, “_You’re very kind!_”

“_Don’t mention it_,” Banri nods. He steps out of the hospital room and the scene changes, and Taichi scampers offstage as the next scene begins.

The weight of Banri’s coat on his shoulders is comforting, and Taichi grips the lapels and tightens the coat around himself. Banri gave him this — gave Benjamin this. actually, that’s the truth, isn’t it? If Banri knew the _truth_, he wouldn’t have spread his jacket around Taichi’s shoulders. He probably would have punched him. (It’s the least Taichi deserves.)

He pulls the coat tighter and — shamefully, selfishly, _it’s not like he can get any lower than he already is, right_ — imagines Banri hugging him, reassuring him, giving him that smile he gives Benjamin onstage.

_It’s a nice dream, isn’t it_, Taichi thinks.

“Taichi,” Omi says, nudging Taichi’s arm, and Taichi jolts back to reality.


	2. bantai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this drabble is just bantai kiss; it doesn't have any spoilers (aside from, like, knowing roughly who the characters are). it was inspired by the backstage story for sakuya's initial SR, "whistle while you work", where sakyo makes all the MANKAI residents chip in with cleaning the dorm. 
> 
> i also opted to use the japanese appellation that i'm used to (e.g. furuuche-san) rather than the english server's translations (e.g. frooch) bc it's what i am used to. (i am fond of frooch, tho.)

Taichi’s just begun to relax into his role of wiping down the windowsills in the courtyard, dirty rag in hand, when he feels a hand close around his other wrist. 

“S-S-S-Sakyo-nii?” he stammers, reflexively shaking his rag at his attacker, “I’m working, see—” His brain kicks in a second later, and he recognizes the mop of sandy hair in front of him. “Oh! Ban-chan! I thought you were Sakyo-nii...”

“Yeah, I got that.” Banri releases Taichi’s wrist, waving a hand nonchalantly. “Keep your voice down, okay? That guy can hear anything.”

Taichi nods, bobbing on his heels. Now that he knows it’s Banri who grabbed him, he can’t help beaming up at him. “What’s up? Did you finish cleaning off the tables in the common room?”

“No, I got bored.” Banri scratches the back of his head, and then leans into Taichi’s space, so close Taichi can see the clear blue of his eyes. “Entertain me?”

“Eh? But, Sakyo-nii...”

“If he says something I’ll just tell him I distracted you as your troupe leader.” Now Banri is tugging on Taichi’s shirt, except it’s Banri, so he’s not tugging cutely but instead grasping at Taichi’s zipper in a very cool way. 

“I don’t want you to get in trouble either,” Taichi starts, but he doesn’t get very far before Banri closes the space between them. 

When they first started kissing, Taichi expected Banri’s lips to be soft and smooth, as flawless as the rest of him. In reality, Banri’s lips are usually dry, even chapped. Taichi’s found he likes the texture, though, likes swiping his tongue over them or tugging Banri’s bottom lip into his mouth. He’s thinking about that, so he does it, and it coaxes a quiet sound from Banri’s throat. Banri shifts his weight forward so he can press Taichi back against the window he’s supposed to be cleaning, and for good measure he loops one arm around Taichi’s shoulders, boxing him in. Taichi’s face is heating up from proximity and attention, and when Banri slots his hips against Taichis’s, Taichi nearly loses his balance.

From behind Banri, Taichi catches the sound of footsteps approaching; it’s so _ soon_, he thinks, frustrated, but Banri’s already pulling away, swiping his mouth dry with a slow flick of his thumb. (Unfair!!) Taichi, on the other hand, can do nothing about his red cheeks, and to really hammer home the humiliation, Sakyo rounds the corner, already scowling.

“Nanao!” he barks, his arms folded against his chest like they’re stuck there, “I said no slacking! Get back to your station! You too, Settsu,” he adds, rounding on Banri, who’s slunk a few steps away from Taichi, “don’t think I didn’t notice you there.”

“You really do have eyes everywhere,” Banri grumbles. 

Taichi can feel his face burning. “Sorry!! I’m heading back now, okay?!” He holds the rag out with both hands like an offering. Sakyo looks down at it, snorts, and then bustles off to yell at someone else. Before Taichi or Banri can say anything, Citron and Kazunari burst into the courtyard, each holding a bottle of window cleaner and a rag like Taichi’s, and Taichi despairs. 

“See you later,” Banri mumbles, stepping close enough to hip-check Taichi one more time before heading off back inside.

“Taicchan,” Kazunari whines, trotting over to lay his head mournfully on Taichi’s shoulder. “Furuuche-san won’t let us have a~ny fun~”

“Tell me about it,” Taichi manages, feeling his warm cheeks with his free hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the lines where sakyo scolds banri and taichi for slacking off on cleaning are lifted directly from sakuya's backstage! i read those and i was like "why does it sound like sakyo caught them making out" and then i had to write this, lol.


	3. masumi, boy alice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is set during boy alice in wonderland (...alex in wonderland)! no explicit event spoilers (just costume jokes), but it'll probably make more sense if you know roughly what the event is about.

Sakuya doesn’t take off the cat ears after the performance ends. Tsuzuru whips his rabbit ears off practically the second they step offstage, but Sakuya doesn’t seem to mind his...furry little...ears. 

He bobs around the dressing room grabbing everyone else’s costumes, helping Citron with his cape. Maybe he doesn’t want the show to end? Weird, since he’s not even the lead. He was attached to Romeo, but the Cheshire Cat doesn’t seem like such a big role. Masumi doesn’t...get it. 

The more Sakuya moves around, the more Masumi can’t help staring at the ears. They kind of bounce with his movements, which feels way too like one of Itaru’s anime tropes. 

He didn’t take off the tail ether. What’s with that? Doesn’t he know he looks silly? Is he enjoying meddling everywhere, just like his Cheshire character?

“Masumi-kun?” Oh, now he’s attracted attention. Everyone else has mostly changed out of costume, and are passing around the makeup wipes. Masumi has barely moved from the doorway. And now Sakuya’s blocking his way, his stupid fuzzy ears right at Masumi’s eye level. “Is everything okay?”

Masumi reaches up and touches one of Sakuya’s cat ears. 

“Eh?!” Sakuya says. 

“Masumi,” Itaru starts, a nasty grin on his face. Masumi would rather die than hear the end of that sentence, and the best solution seems to be shoving Sakuya out of the way so he can menace Itaru into silence, but Sakuya leans into Masumi’s hand like a content cat being scratched behind its ears, and Masumi freezes. 

“Do you like the ears?” Sakuya asks. His half-smile is so unassuming, so gentle, that Masumi wants to melt into the ground and never reform. Behind them, Itaru coughs meaningfully into his closed fist. Masumi is going to kill him. 

“I don’t care about them,” he tells Sakuya, and shoves past him properly. Sakuya doesn’t appear fazed. 

“It’s always a big day in a young man’s life when he discovers his feelings for catboys,” Itaru says in a stage whisper, his hand cupped around his mouth. 

Tsuzuru lets out a laugh that he barely manages to disguise as a cough. “Itaru-san.”

“It’s true,” Citron says mournfully. “The day a boy learns if he prefers cat ears or bunny ears is the day he becomes a man, you know.”

Itaru wheezes. Sakuya looks back and forth between the two of them and Tsuzuru like he’s watching a debate. 

“All of you shut up,” Masumi says loudly, and starts pulling his shirt over his head so he doesn’t have to hear any of them anymore.


	4. chikaita, kitten cafe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chikage (canon cat disliker) and itaru (no canon cat preference) visit a kitten cafe!!! i have some personal expertise in this area, so this is very self-indulgent. i don't think there's spoilers here aside from chikage existing!

They’re ushered into the main room of the kitten cafe, an open, warmly lit space full of fluffy pillows and ledges for sitting. A few other guests are already laying with kittens curled up on their laps or playing with a toy at their side, each person wearing a similarly enthralled expression. Itaru counts maybe twenty kittens in the room; some prowl the edges of the floor, wary or perhaps looking for the perfect chance to play, while others nap in the sunbeams that soak in through the windows, or sprawl by the food and water dishes in one corner. 

Itaru gestures toward one empty cushion by a window, and he and senpai sit carefully on it, senpai smoothing the wrinkles from his pants with a displeased expression. 

“Thank you for coming. I’ll find you two some kittens,” the employee offers. “Do you have any personality preferences?”

“Ah,” senpai starts, before Itaru can get a word out. “I don’t really like cats, so you just need to find one for my companion.”

The employee looks like she wants to say something, like _Why are you even here then_, but she manages to smile. “All right, then. What sort of cats do you like, sir?” she asks Itaru. 

“Your cutest, most affectionate cat,” Itaru deadpans. “No brats for me.” 

He watches with a little satisfaction as the employee fights a smile. “I see. I know just the kitten.” 

As she turns to find it, senpai turns and gives Itaru a flat look. “No brats, huh. I’ll have to tell Banri and Masumi they’re both dead to you now.”

“They’re cute brats, though. Unlike someone else.”

The employee returns before senpai can muster up a retort. In her arms is a kitten on the small side compared to the cafe’s other residents, with tabby coloring and white-dipped paws. The employee deposits the kitten in Itaru’s lap with a smile. “This little one is Ume-chan. She likes to be scratched by her ears and under her chin, so if you do that she’ll take to you easily.”

Ume-chan is barely a noticeable weight on Itaru’s thighs. Cautiously, he brings his hand in front of her face. After giving him a curious sniff, she rubs her cheek against his fingers, and Itaru scritches her carefully on her head, then her chin. Ume-chan presses her face enthusiastically against Itaru’s fingers, and soon she’s purring and kneading at his lap, preparing to settle right in. 

“Very good,” the employee says approvingly. Itaru jolts; he forgot there were others here besides himself and the kitten. He looks up and finds the employee smiling at him; on his other side, senpai’s expression is unreadable. 

“She took to you right away,” the employee praises. “Do you have cats of your own?”

Itaru thinks about Hisoka falling asleep anywhere that looks warm enough; he thinks about Sakuya wearing his cat ears around during Boy Alice, even when he wasn’t going to be onstage for ages. He looks at senpai, now pretending to be very interested in one of the other kittens drinking water. 

“Well, I suppose that’s not far from the truth,” he hums, and feels the weight of senpai’s eyes on him as he gives Ume-chan’s head another pet.


	5. spring troupe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this before i wrote [now charging](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570159), and it has a somewhat similar premise! will (i think) told me to publish this for sakuya's bday, but i didn't really get around to it until today. happy bday, leader!! you're everything!!!
> 
> this is set roughly during part 1, so no spoilers for eng server folks! also, uhh... some jokes about parents playing favorites (not actual parents. it's spring troupe), so if that's not your cup of tea, please be careful!

Itaru doesn’t open the front door so much as he falls into it and it opens under his weight. He stumbles over the threshold into MANKAI Company’s dorms, barely avoiding tripping over his own feet.

He’s too tired even to remove his shoes, so he stands in the doorway for a moment, swaying a little. After a moment he remembers words. 

“I’m home—.”

“Welcome home!” comes Sakuya’s voice from nearby. A moment later, Sakuya himself scampers into view from down the corridor where their bedrooms are, a bright smile on his face which immediately turns to worry when he spots Itaru haunting the doorway. “Itaru-san?!” 

“Hi,” Itaru says. He lifts one arm. “C’mere.”

“Eh? Gacha time?” Sakuya approaches, his finger held out. Itaru doesn’t have his phone handy, though, and Sakuya notices this once he gets closer. “Itaru-san? Do you need me to pull for you?”

“No, no.” Now that Sakuya’s within reach, Itaru winds his arm around Sakuya like a vine and tugs him closer. Sakuya is warm and solid, and Itaru mushes his face into Sakuya’s shoulder with a satisfied grunt. “Now charging~” 

He feels Sakuya relax a little, and exhale a soft chuckle. “Did you have a hard day at the office?”

In response, Itaru lets out a long groan. 

Sakuya laughs again. “I see, I see! We~ll...” He’s slipping into his acting voice, invoking the familiar etude. “There’s dinner in the fridge, if you want... Mom will be happy you’re home.”

“Yeah, where is Citron.” Itaru yawns. “I’ll look for him in a bit. I’m only at 9% battery now.”

“Only 9%?” Itaru feels Sakuya’s hand in his hair, petting him gently. “Ah... Dad’s hair is fluffy as always.”

“I wanna tie it up now that I’m home. It gets in my eyes.” Itaru butts his face against Sakuya’s shoulder, as though if he just presses his forehead into the bone of Sakuya’s shoulder hard enough his headache will go away. “Sakuyaaaa. You’re warm.”

“I’m happy to be of service,” Sakuya says without malice. 

“World cold and hard. Leader soft and warm.”

“What are you two doing,” Tsuzuru says, sticking his head around the living room divider wall. “Itaru-san? Don’t tell me you’re sucking Sakuya’s life force out?!”

Itaru expends 3% of his Sakuya-charged battery on a retort. “What am I, a vampire?” 

“You’re pale and nocturnal, so you could be.” Tsuzuru approaches for real, and places a hesitant hand on Itaru’s back. “are you okay?”

“Dad had a long day at work!” Sakuya pipes up. 

“So you’re flopped on your son,” Tsuzuru says. “Honestly, Dad.”

“We’re having a moment,” Itaru says. “You’re just sad you aren’t Dad’s favorite.”

“What kind of parent plays favorites!”

“You’re so loud,” comes Masumi’s voice, as its owner joins them from the living room. He’s eating an onigiri, probably curry-filled. “Dad. Get off Sakuya before he falls over.”

“Are you going to fall over,” Itaru deadpans. 

Sakuya shakes his head firmly. “No! I can hold you!”

“Is that Itaru?” Finally Citron joins the fray, the last member of the family. “Welcome home~”

“Ah, wife,” Itaru says. He’s reluctant to give up Sakuya, though, having basically melded his sad, tired body into Sakuya’s warm embrace. 

“Husband,” Citron says, his voice catching in a laugh. “Don’t crush our son, now.”

“I _won’t_. I’m not that heavy.”

“Can you two at least come in from the doorway?” Tsuzuru suggests. He pats Itaru’s back stiffly and then retreats, joining Masumi by the wall. “Itaru-san, you can have some food and then get some rest.”

“Rest, ha,” Itaru grumbles. “I have to rank. Food, though...”

“There’s curry,” Masumi suggests unhelpfully. 

“It’s home, so of course there’s curry.”

“It _is _home,” Sakuya hums. Finally, he disentangles himself from Itaru, though he doesn’t go far. “Come eat, Dad? We’ll come with you.”

“Of course!” Citron says. Itaru feels Citron’s hand slip into his, and Itaru squeezes it. 

“Sure,” Tsuzuru agrees easily. 

“I have homework,” Masumi says. Sakuya gives him a look, and he relents. “I can put it off, I guess. Dad always sets a bad example.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Itaru toes off his shoes finally and finds slippers, dropping his bag with a thunk by the door. His battery is at... 40% now, he’d guess. Enough to get him to the kitchen and reheat some curry, which is a good enough stamina refill item. He reaches for Sakuya’s arm with his free hand. “Thanks.”

Sakuya’s face breaks into a huge smile, and Itaru has to wonder if it’s only to do with what Itaru said, and not the warmth between the five of them together in this place. “It’s my pleasure!”


	6. itaru & chikage (see warnings)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this drabble contains a description of a stab wound and mentions of blood; please be careful! it's also... not particularly happy (as the first sentence might imply), and since these are rough times we are living in, please be mindful of whether you're in an okay place to read this.
> 
> (takes off my warning hat) i wrote this in december based off a list of like, fun fiction tropes related to stab wounds (what a sentence lol). there are four tropes on the list and i only managed to write this one, but (shrugs) it's like that. i'll put the full trope from the list in the chapter end notes to avoid fully spoiling!
> 
> oh, probably best understood if you’ve read through the latest jp server events, but contains no tangible spoilers past act 5 / arguably kniroun.

Itaru tabs to LIME and opens his message log with Chikage for probably the hundredth time that night. The last message from Chikage stares back at him, sent at 17:04, now a long six hours ago. Itaru’s end of the chat hasn’t been silent, but none of the newer messages have been opened. It’s not like Itaru would miss a new message from Chikage—he’s even left his notifs on while playing Slam Dream, a testament to how much this is apparently fucking with him—and yet, there’s a strange comfort in checking manually.

Chikage’s been MIA for six hours, and Itaru’s past the point of pretending he’s not worrying. Chikage would tease him mercilessly if he knew, except he doesn’t, because he’s fucking missing. Itaru’s also running out of games to play. Well, that’s not true. At any given moment he’s only a few seconds away from another replay of Kniroun IV, or maybe VII or II, and his Stream library is full of games purchased half-off during sales and never opened, and his AC:BC campers have rotated since he last opened the game, meaning there’s more in-game tasks to do. Except it’s getting hard to concentrate on anything.

With a frustrated sigh, he lays back against his pillows, peering down the bed to the divider and past it, to Chikage’s neatly arranged blankets and pillows. Senpai always makes his bed, the asshole, like he’s trying to show up Itaru and his perpetually tangled sheets. Even if Itaru had the energy to make his bed consistently, he wouldn’t, as a matter of principle. You’re just going to get right back in the damn thing. 

Before he can settle too deeply into his anxiety, he hears the front door open, a distant sound, and jolts up from bed. At 23:00 on a weeknight, it could be anyone, but it _ should_ be Chikage, and Itaru’s wound up enough that he’s willing to drag his ass out of bed to check. He climbs down the ladder of his loft bed as fast as his weak little legs will carry him, and shoves the door open with his shoulder, probably bruising it. Chikage better be grateful, he thinks, padding down the hallway and out into the common room. 

From here, he can just see the entryway, the dim ceiling light turned on but not casting a lot of light. There’s a figure standing there, body hunched forward as if concealing something. Itaru’s breath catches in his chest, and he takes a few steps closer, wishing he had any sort of weapon on him, or stealth powers, or anything. As soon as he gets closer, though, he makes out green hair and a gleam off a pair of circular glasses, and breathes a sigh of relief.

“_Sen_pai, it’s not cute to make your junior worry,” he starts, his stride picking up with confidence. Now mere feet from Chikage, he stops again, folding his arms. Even as Itaru’s gone through several emotions, Chikage hasn’t moved; he still has an arm thrown awkwardly over his abdomen, and his head is lowered, obscuring his expression. Itaru squints, taking another step closer. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, pushing back the chill settling over him. 

“Chigasaki,” says Chikage, and his voice is tight, strained like a rope holding weight. He lifts his head, and Itaru sees it: a trickle of blood that runs down his chin. Fresh enough to still catch the light. 

“Senpai,” Itaru breathes, and he closes the distance between them, reaching out to take the arm Chikage’s guarding his body with. He expects Chikage to resist, but Chikage allows Itaru to pull his arm away, exposing his belly. It’s easy to see, would be easy even if Chikage wasn’t wearing white. The fabric is soaked in blood around a gash just above Chikage’s belly button, blood so dark and so wet that Itaru knows without any medical knowledge that the wound must be severe. 

Chikage reaches out and grasps Itaru’s shoulders. His hands are bloody, and leave red handprints on Itaru’s sweatshirt, but Itaru doesn’t think before wrapping his arms around Chikage’s waist, holding him close, as if Itaru’s body can apply enough pressure to close that big a wound.

“Sorry,” Chikage breathes, the word punched out of him, and goes limp in Itaru’s arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the trope this is based on: "turn up at a friend's house in the middle of the night and wake them up to see them standing in their doorway while clutching their side and having just enough strength to say 'hey' before collapsing from blood loss". clearly modified a bit but i think the essence is there


	7. chikage & itaru, SSR Mining

"Here's a list of our partners for the next venture," their boss says, as his secretary starts passing papers out along the table. The powerpoint presentation on the screen scrolls through a list of business names, stopping at the bottom on a Canadian company called SSR Mining. 

Chikage turns as subtly as he can to look two people down the table. He's just in time to catch Chigasaki carefully schooling his expression into a neutral mask. When he sees Chikage looking, the corner of his mouth twists, and Chikage is almost tempted to keep looking, to put on the pressure, see if Chigasaki snaps and starts laughing in the office.

There's no need. He can always tease him in the car ride home.


	8. banri & itaru, borrowed appellation

“I can't stay much later,” Banri reminds Itaru, even as he’s taking the joycon Itaru offers him. “Got class tomorrow at ten.”

“Look at you, going to class”, Itaru says, scratching his chin with the corner of his own joycon. He spreads out on his half of the little couch, tucking his knees up against Banri’s side. On the TV screen in front of them, a tiny dot swirls in a neat circle, indicating their game is loading. “I remember the days you’d stay up ‘til four in the morning with me and then tell Sakyo-san you were too sick to go to school.”

“Sakyo-san never believed shit,” Banri sighs. He hammers on the A button, and miraculously the welcome screen pops up seconds later. “Hell yeah.” 

“Nice.” Itaru lays his own finger on the joystick, scrolling immediately to the character he wants as soon as the selection screen opens. Banri wastes no time selecting his character, and with both of them confirmed, they go on to select the game stage and then begin their match. Itaru immediately Blows banri off the platform. 

“Fucker,” Banri snaps. 

“Too slow,” Itaru hums. Banri doesn’t have time to look over, but he imagines Itaru’s tongue is slightly out as he concentrates. “Hey, _I_ have to work early tomorrow too.”

“Yeah, but you’ll make it. Your blood’s gotta be 80% energy drinks at this point.”

“Yeah. And 10% terror from senpai threatening to spike my lunch with fucking demonic spices if I don’t drive us in time.”

“Heh. I got lucky with Kazunari.” Banri aims his weapon at Itaru, but Itaru jumps away before Banri can land a killing blow. “Fuck you. I hope senpai does spike your...”

Ah, he said _senpai_, didn’t he. 

“Banri,” Itaru says, sounding a little strangled. Banri refuses to look, fixing his eyes instead on the TV screen, where his character is about to fall off the platform. “Banri. What did you just say.”

“Eat shit.”

“You first,” Itaru says, sing-song, as he blows Banri’s character off the map again. Asshole. “Do you think of senpai as your senpai too? Is that it?”

“No, obviously it's that I spend way too much time with _you_, asshole.” Banri shakes his joycon as he waits to respawn. “You’re rubbing off on me.”

“Hmm. It’s kinda gross,” Itaru says. “Can you leave that nickname to me, actually?” 

Banri looks over at Itaru, curious. His tone is soft, almost serious. But Itaru’s expression is the same lazy smirk as every other time he’s beaten Banri at a game. 

“Sure,” Banri shoots back. “Pretend I never said anything.”

As soon as his character lands, Banri jams the joystick right, sending his character crashing headfirst into Itaru’s. Itaru just laughs, taking the pummeling with grace. Banri’s still losing anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've played smash maybe twice so i have no fucking idea how to write it, sorry everyone


	9. itaru & omi, midnight snack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanks to my mom for inspiring this scenario by asking me if she should bake at midnight o/

Midway through a long night of streaming, Itaru takes a break to grab some fresh snacks from the kitchen. He’s halfway through rooting through the fridge when Omi enters behind him, his stubble and eyebags a strong contrast to Itaru’s current energy drink-fueled rush. 

“Hey,” Itaru says.

“Hi,” Omi says around a huge yawn. He rubs his chin, staring around the kitchen with dull eyes. “Up late gaming?”

“Yup.” Itaru grabs a can of cherry cola from the fridge, and moves on to the pantry. He throws a glance over his shoulder at Omi, who’s barely moved. “You working on homework?”

“Something like that. I’m at a good stopping point, so I should be going to bed.”

“Yeah.” Itaru definitely doesn’t miss the all-nighters he pulled in uni. Not that he’s so different now, clearly. “You’re a responsible student, so I’m sure it’ll be fine if you call it a night.”

Omi heaves a sigh. Itaru looks up to find him standing next to the stove, one hand resting on the oven handle almost lovingly. “Do you want any sweets? I can bake some scones. I think Juza was working on homework too.”

Itaru blinks. “Didn’t you just say you should go to bed.”

Omi’s whole body seems to deflate, his lower lip tugged down in a pout that Itaru would believe was exaggerated if he thought Omi was the type. At least, Itaru’s pretty sure he’s not. “You’re right...”

“Scones’ll be there tomorrow,” Itaru says, fighting the odd urge to pat Omi consolingly on the back. “So will me and Juza. Rest is important for growing boys.”

“I’m not that much younger than you,” Omi says, but the retort seems to put some light back in his eyes. He yawns again, covering his mouth politely with one hand. “Okay, you win. I’ll bake for you guys tomorrow.”

“Hell yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! and thank you to goomba server for literally everything. hmu on [twitter](http://twitter.com/futarinoshoutai) o/


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